


Noli me tangere

by Dmonius



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dmonius/pseuds/Dmonius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picture it. Jason is the young soldier who has just come back to Rome, Tim the Greek slave who teaches his little brother Damian.<br/>I'm not sure in which direction this tale will go; but I got inspired by the brilliant poem by Thomas Wyatt - maybe I'll add Kon to the cocktail?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noli me tangere

"Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am, 
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame." 
     (Thomas Wyatt)
      

     Jason was back in Rome for one night now, and when the twenty five year old soldier got up is bedroom at his father's house, he just appreciated the feeling of being at home and not in some camp next to Juliacum. He turned around and closed his eyes again for the moment, but then, he heard the voice of the Demon from the outside; Damian was probably being taught again and whoever had being granted the chance to teach the boy some manners probably had a hard time.
     Jason got up the bed and put on the white toga his mother's most favorite slave Barbara had provided him with; his father was probably away on some Senate business and his mother probably spent some time in the company of their trusted slave Alfred, who both were running their family's household. His older brother Dick was probably away because of his duties as a quaestor.
     After he had stretched himself, he went out of his room and into the atrium. Alfred and their mother were discussing something, but he just ignored them and casually went by the demon. Damian was being taught in the atrium on this bright day and now, Jason could hear the discussion he had with his teacher.
     “I don't see why I should learn this alphabet.”
     “You're not supposed to. Your father thinks you should.”
     “And who are you to say that, slave?”
     “Let's just say that I have to whip hand here, shall we?”
     “You're slave. Slaves don't have whip hands.”
     “But I do,” Jason said. He walked by Damian's teacher and eyed his little brother while he made sure to catch the tone his commander usually had when scolding young soldiers – like Jason for example. “So, Damian...do you behave and do your stuff, or should I tell your teacher how you did wet your pants every time Lady Diana and her daughters come over?”
     Damian gave Jason the usual glare of death and the usual “Tt”, but he turned down and started to write. At this moment, Jason got the chance to take a look at the teacher and...
     “Thank you,” the slave said. “I assume you're Jason, who came back tonight?”
     “That's right. And you're?”
     “I'm Tim,” the teacher said.
     “Your accent sounds familiar. Are you Greek?”
     Tim smiled and said, “Actually, I'm from Egypt, but my parents were Greek merchants, if that's what you mean.”
     Jason just stared at the boy – he was probably barely past seventeen – and looked at the lean body and the black hair. Tim's eyes were blue. They were of a radiant blue that could even rival the sky. Jason gave him his best smile and touched the slave's shoulder to get hold of the soft skin. Were all Greek boys like this? He'll have to check la–
     “Jason!” his mother cried, “Come over – your father is back and wants to talk to you!” 
     “We'll talk later. Have fun with the demon.”
     “Thanks.”


End file.
